You have Heart
by KatyDW
Summary: Why did Loki have so much venom when speaking to Agent Romanoff? This explores the madness of the cube and his preoccupation with the first slave he found on Midgard.


Author's note: This fic is something that my role play partner and I've been brainstorming and in a random bout of insomnia I decided to write it. This is from Loki's POV. The writing is a bit scattered and out of order chronologically because I wished to play up the idea that Loki was being driven slightly mad by the scepter.

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"You've got heart." He said as he pushed his scepter into the man's chest. It was a thrilling feeling, being able to take over the Asgardians so easily. He didn't understand his brother's obsession with such weak creatures. There was something about the power that made him able to sense which ones would be the best to control.

The ones that were controlled by no one.

This one was the first one that Loki found himself growing interested in besides what he could do. The scepter made it easy to convince him to spill his every secret. And he could easily see into the man's mind and see what he saw through his strangely acute vision, better even than his own. At first it was simply that, his supreme abilities as an assassin, marksmen and knowledge of SHIELD and its inner workings, but then as he saw into the man's past and his stains and regrets, Loki found himself fascinated and unable to keep from learning more.

And that's where he found another being to hate as much as his brother.

"I know, but I like this. Your world's in the balance, and you bargain for one man." He asked incredulously, but with a smile. He realized that despite Barton's own assurance that the woman only trusted him and nothing more, she cared as deeply for him as he did for her.

And it made his blood boil.

After they made it from the complex where he arrived, he was still exercising his power and seeing just what exactly he could make someone tell him and what he could see within them.

"What's your name?"

"Clinton Francis Barton."

He smirked slightly as the man answered without a beat, but could read in his mind if he tried hard enough, that he never told his full name. It gave him pleasure to know that he was able to humiliate him if he so desired. Eventually Loki found the need to keep pressing, finding out his fears, his regrets, his amusements. At first he was just testing his power, and then eventually it evolved into fascination.

"Clinton Francis Barton, what do you love most in the entire world? Since you were so obedient, I might spare it."

"Nat."

Loki turned his head as the other men he'd turned to his side milled about working. He hadn't seen a Nat in his memories yet. How was he able to hide her? Especially under his control.

"Tell me about this Nat." And the gates were opened. It seemed he wasn't able to disobey a direct order, but in his subconscious he still had secrets to keep. Loki had learned enough about the man to want to know more. There was something about him, something drawing.

How could a man so inherently good, still believe he was paying penance for such petty sins?

Because it was clear under the sarcasm and bravado that still leaked from him even when rendered almost drone like, that is what he thought of himself.

Loki wanted to know about this person that his man, who he had already decided was _his,_ found worthy of his claim.

And she disgusted him.

Now that they were face to face, his own fury at the idea of her raged. "Is it love, Agent Romanoff?" he sneered, ignoring the his own heartbeat speeding up as he wanted, no needed, to know the answer. For reasons unknown, he wished to see if one of them knew the real name for their bond.

Her answer only enraged him more.

He knew everything about her and could see how Barton saw her and she did not care about him at all. Not enough, not like he would if it had been another place and another time.

Not like he would if it wasn't just brainwashing that would do it. Because he knew now that there'd be no possibility of redemption for him in Barton's mind. He knew it too well now.

When he had stopped being fascinated and became obsessed, the Midgardian no longer knew. He only knew it enraged him to know that she did not deserve him, but yet she was the only one that would ever have him.

He sneered as he remembered the last piece of weaponry from Barton's mind, the words spilling out as he fought to hurt her, make her pay, pay like he was going to make his brother pay. For taking everything, for having everything, and spitting on it. The words spilled out and he grinned as he finished, "…I won't touch Barton. Not until I make him kill you, slowly, intimately, in every way he knows you fear. And then he'll wake just long enough to see his good work. And when he screams, I'll split his skull."

When she left, he began to pace once again, realizing that she'd tricked him. It was almost enough to make him shatter the glass and escape from the prison.

"If it's all the same I'll have that drink now." He said, not looking at Barton as he had an arrow notched at his face.

With his eyes no longer the blue of his power, Loki found it hard to meet them, but he held steady before he was transported back to Asgard. The hate in those eyes couldn't be more than how much he hated himself.


End file.
